


♦ The Phantom of the Opera

by EvelynLawliet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Love at First Song, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvelynLawliet/pseuds/EvelynLawliet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year was 1600, the Elizabethan Era. Castiel was an Opera singer, well-known throughout the streets of England and he decided to try for the most important role of his life: the beautiful Christine, from the recently written play 'The Phantom of the Opera', by Samuel Winchester, whose brother, Dean, would be playing the role of the Phantom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story came after my little obssession with the song The Phantom of the Opera, but only two chapters are written until now. Since I'm writing another story currently - which I'll soon post here -, I'm not sure when I'll have time to write chapter three, but the second one will be here next week, shall you guys enjoy it. Hope you like it!

The year was 1600, the Elizabethan Era. Also was it the golden ages of the opera. Outstanding performances were thrown at the main theater of the United Kingdom, the Tudor Royal Center of Arts, built by no more, no less than King Henry VIII, the queen’s dead father.

As it always goes, at that moment they had a new rising star, Castiel Novak, well known by his voice and incredible acting, you could easily hear throughout the streets. Mister Novak was famous because of his vocal range. Women were not accepted as actresses, and so the fact that he could reach both the highest and lowest note was something quite impressive. Of course, that led him to play women roles during several plays, but, if you would take a moment and ask him, Castiel would say he was fond of the statement.

True to his words, the blue-eyed man was then directing himself towards the Tudor Royal Center of Arts in order to try for a new part. Obvious was it that once they saw him, he would not even have to sing for the audition, so great was his figure.

Still, Castiel had decided to try for the most difficult role of his life; one to which he had been rehearsing perhaps even before the King’s death. The play in question was new, and if Castiel could get that part, he would achieve his life’s mark of perfection.

For yes, the singer would be auditioning for the role of the beautiful Christine, the lead female singer. Not that he actually paid much attention to it, but he was positive the male with whom he would counteract had already been chosen. To be honest, that was somehow pleasant. He would not have to act with someone he would never see again for the rest of his life, but with who would be living the story with him.

Castiel liked it, this feeling of feeling completely connected with another human being whilst in characters, as if he was really that person; that woman. It was…Simple, yet alive; yes, he felt alive while singing and acting. And he was truly wonderful at it, as lots had already said.

That was the reason why he did not feel lonely, no matter how dark the United Kingdom’s nights could get. Terrifying; there was no other word to describe looking into nothing but to where his imagination could wonder free, with no boundaries or limits. He could still remember how that all made him feel when he was yet a child, with only two brothers and a sister to count on.

Happily, though, now he had only himself. Not that he did not see his family; he did, fairly currently, to tell the truth, but with age came the separation, and, somehow, he managed to make it better while alone. Castiel did not miss having someone to share his bed with, that was the whole point. The singer was just content with how his life had turned out, and in moments of loneness he could always seek a brothel, not really caring if they were not enough. He could never have what would be really enough, so why care about it?

Shaking his head as trying to ignore his own thoughts, Castiel entered the theater. Not even three minutes did he take to find the main room, where the auditions were taking place. His gaze narrowed as he tried to see who was the man auditioning on the center of the stage, wearing a ball mask that only covered half of his face.

He approached quietly, making sure not to allow his presence to make itself noticeable. The man on the stage moved around it, and Castiel realized he was not auditioning, but acting. So that was his co-star. He could not remember his name, and so he decided to stay back and watch him before presenting himself.

And wasn’t he surprised with what he saw and heard. The blonde man had a very strong stage presence, and a beautiful voice, albeit looking younger than Castiel. As the notes slipped through his lips and reached Castiel’s ears, the blue-eyed closed his lids for a split of a second, opening them again only to see the other’s acting.

Truth be told, by the end of the performance Castiel was stupefied, if not a little breathless. It had been a long time, he realized, since he had felt that way. Ever since…

He swallowed, telling those thoughts to be silenced.

“Will there be any more performances? Or are we closed for the play?” called a firm but gentle voice from the front role.

Castiel slowly rose to his feet and cleared his throat. “I would like to audition for the role of Christine,” he announced.

As expected, everyone’s eyes shot right at him. The singer maintained his composure, keeping his gaze on the male onstage.

“Castiel…Novak?” that same gentle voice stood once more, this time a little less firm.

“That I am,” Castiel assured, taking his time at walking towards the stage.

The voice, he noticed, came from a very tall man – he could tell only by his long legs, even though he was sitting – with long brown hair, which was tied on a low ponytail.

“You want to audition? Sir?” he made sure to add.

Castiel chuckled low in his throat at the formality. “Yes, I would enjoy doing so. And please, call me Castiel.”

Nodding, the man pointed to where the stairs to the stage were placed. “P-Please, feel comfortable. I am Samuel Winchester, the writer and director, and that standing on the stage is my brother, Dean Winchester, who will be playing the Phantom,” Samuel said.

“Thank you, Samuel. Which part of the play would you like me to sing?”

It was truly obvious, the look the Winchester brothers exchanged then. Castiel pretended not to notice it, but he paid very much attention. Somehow, they intrigued him, albeit he could not tell why.

“Would you be willing to sing the main song?” Samuel asked.

Suspiciously, Castiel turned to Dean, who had not spoken ever since his scene had ended. Smiling at him was that he answered. “I would be delighted.”

Samuel seemed to jump with joy, and helped Castiel to find his way to the stairs, giving him one of the scripts. The blue-eyed man read it for only a minute before giving it back to Samuel, who looked even more excited after that.

Dean looked at Castiel then, and the Novak got the chance to admire his emerald eyes. That thought made Castiel look away; he could not allow himself to lead down that path again. He was aware of his statuses, and what he was and was not permitted doing.

The background song started and Castiel took a steadying breath, avoiding Dean’s gaze at every cost. As it always happened, the notes seemed to flow from inside of Castiel, and suddenly he was Christine. Perhaps not the woman herself, but he knew how she felt; he could understand her fears and odd joy.

From then on, he allowed himself to look at Dean, but only because he was looking at the Phantom. Castiel was never one to settle on the stage, and so he took a few unsteady steps towards the other man, who followed him right away, a seriousness covering over his features.

Dean sang the next part, walking behind Castiel and pretending to almost touching him, but avoiding his skin by merely an inch. It made the Novak look to the side and let out a shaky breath. The Winchester continued to walk towards the other side of the stage and it was Castiel’s turn again.

Raising his hand in a lingering movement, the dark-haired allowed the words to come to life until Dean’s voice surged once more. They turned to each other and sang together, never leaving each other’s eyes, and nearly letting a finger slide on their skin, but never actually doing so.

The chorus rang through their ears as they turned away, risking a few dangerous glances. Dean’s voice was far once it sounded again, and Castiel had to suppress the strange feeling that gave him. Looking at the empty audience, the blue-eyed completed Dean’s sentence before the Winchester’s steps could be felt on the ground, their voices melting as one.

“Sing, my angel of music,” Dean ordered in a husky voice that made Castiel shiver.

“He’s there, the phantom of the opera,” he obeyed.

“Sing.”

And then Castiel was lost, the notes of his solo taking the control out of his hands, as if they had a mind of their one.

“Sing,” Dean’s voice came again as Castiel sang higher.

He usually thought of something that made him happy once he was singing the most important part of his songs, but this time he thought about Dean’s eyes, sparkling green and amazingly beautiful. It gave him instantaneously the strength he needed.

“Sing for me.”

Castiel’s voice went even higher and he almost closed his eyes, wanting to drawn in the heat of the present moment. That was what he lived for; for moments like that when he could simply be himself in other person’s life.

“Sing, my angel of music.” It was a softer sound this time, although more desperate.

Once more Castiel obeyed, emerging into his emotions and letting them flow with his voice. He repeated the note three times, taking a deep breath and preparing for the grand finale. It actually surprised him when he felt Dean’s right hand around his neck and the left holding his waist, and he internally thanked himself for being so into the song to care much about it.

“Sing for me!” came the final order, Dean’s breath right against the left side of his neck.

And Castiel did it. He sang the final note with perfection, looking at the highest point in the audience and positioning his hands along the sides of his body, allowing himself to reach for Dean’s warmth in search of completion.

The song ended, but Dean’s hands remained on him for a while longer. Castiel wanted to complain, but he was way too discredited to do anything then try and recover his breath. Thankfully, the light was not enough for Samuel to notice the brisk movement of Dean’s nose against Castiel’s neck – or his mortal shiver, for that matter – before the Winchester pulled away. Only then the blue-eyed realized Dean was a few inches taller than him, which only made him want to shiver again.

“I…I…I have no words for that,” Samuel’s voice came from the same spot as before.

Castiel quickly turned towards him, as if he had been caught committing a sin and was now condemned to be burned alive. Samuel was wide-eyed, open-mouthed and looked a bit silly, if you asked Castiel’s opinion.

“That was wonderful! Mister Novak, I mean, Castiel, the part is yours, if you still want it.”

At first, Castiel did not know how to react. Then, he turned to Dean and saw some new sparkle inside his eyes, something he thought he would call hope. Right then, he knew he was doomed for life.

“It would be an honor to be a part of your play, Mister Winchester,” Castiel said, slightly lowering his head in a formal greeting.

Samuel grinned widely. “Perfect! Can we meet tomorrow at the same place and time?” he asked, and at Castiel’s nod, gathered his stuff. “It is all set, then. I will see you tomorrow, Castiel, and, please, call me Sam.”

It took him until he was almost out of the door before he turned back. “Dean, are you coming?”

Castiel pretended to look at the ground, biting his lips. “Expect me home for dinner,” Dean replied and the Novak had to refrain the effect that voice had on him.

“Alright then, see you two around!” Sam finished before flying out of the theater.

As soon as Samuel shut the door, Castiel started making his way out of the stage, only stopping when he felt a warm hand covering his shoulder.

“Leaving already?” Dean asked.

Subtly, Castiel realized there were just the two of them there; no one to accuse him, no one to threaten him. Just Dean and him. And yet it was not enough for the blue-eyed singer to let himself go; not anymore.

“It is my time, indeed,” Castiel said, shrugging his hand away.

Dean frowned at him, as if he were some kind of lunatic. How right would that accusation be, if looked at by a certain angle.

“Really?”

The blonde raised his hand, the tip of his fingers brushing Castiel’s bare arm and forcing him to swallow.

“Yes, Mister Winchester, really. Now, if you will excuse me…”

He was kind of proud of himself for making it to the stairs before Dean stopped him again, arms embracing his waist and breath caressing the shell of Castiel’s ear.

“Come on, baby, I know you felt that too.”

And Castiel certainly did. Even an outsider could have felt the connection between the two singers. A part of Castiel was so glad he was not the only one to think like that, nonetheless. So glad he would not be fooling himself…Then, there was the other part; the part that reminded him how this would end.

All of a sudden, Castiel released himself from Dean’s arms, his eyes wide and his breath uneven.

“Mister Winchester, please keep your infatuations to yourself, for our relationship is nothing but professional. Have a nice day,” he finished and ran downstairs.

“No fucking way!” Dean shouted, chasing after him.

That was way too familiar in ways Castiel did not even want to think about. The feeling taking over him scared him in both pleasant and horrific ways. His heart was beating faster with every beat, Dean’s presence coming closer and closer, and he knew this would not end well, he just knew it.

Dean held his wrist and made Castiel turn back towards him, the dark-haired now completely afraid of what might happen. They were so close, only a breath away. If one of them made a miscalculated movement…

“Now tell me, looking into my eyes, you didn’t feel that.”

He was so much gentler than Castiel would have thought. Right then, the blue-eyed man realized his skin did not hurt where Dean’s fingers were wrapped around it. The message he was trying to send was obvious; he would not force Castiel into doing anything he did not want to.

“Feel what, Mister Winchester?” the dark-haired asked with his blankest expression, abusing his acting skills.

His eyes did not meet Dean’s, though, and that was enough for the Winchester to slowly lean in, approaching Castiel’s lips with his own.

The Novak trembled maddeningly, and he could feel the sweat starting to run down the back of his neck. It had been such a long time…He ached for that so badly…No!

Castiel did the first thing that crossed his mind: he slapped Dean’s cheek only hard enough for him to get the message.

“How dare you?” Castiel asked, the shock surrounding his tone, perhaps more because of his own reaction than Dean’s. “I do not share your feelings, so please, leave me be.”

With that being said, Castiel finally made it out of the theater, not sure if he had actually heard Dean saying those last words. Such filthy words!

“Fuck, Cas, come on!” had come the slight tremble, although not mad, if only frustrated.

Later that night, Castiel dreamed of a green-eyed phantom haunting his dreams.


	2. Act II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean talk about Castiel's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three will be written as soon as I finish and post the story I'm currently writing. :3

Dean was mad on the day after auditions; Castiel noticed that as soon as he arrived. And worse, that was also the moment when he realized _he_ was the reason for such feeling. Such realization made him want to turn back and forget about the play, but he would never give up a job because of a man.

“Castiel, you have arrived!” Samuel’s voice called from the same seat as the day before. “Good, now we can start rehearsing and after so we should have a meeting about costumes and so.”

Wonderful was how Samuel was committed to his works. He constantly said throughout the day that this was his masterpiece and he would want to present it in no more than three months, maybe even to the Queen herself.

For as much as Castiel liked the idea, it also made him nervous. Never had he been face to face with Your Highness and such idea scared him. Still, it was an enormous opportunity to which he could not – and would not – say no.

It was obvious they would take perhaps more than three months to get the play ready, though, especially because Dean refused to look at Castiel with other expression than irritation. The blue-eyed had worked with a few people who hated him, but they were never his co-star. That would make things a _lot_ more difficult.

“Dean, Castiel, I was thinking about showing the main song to the others, as an inspiration, or maybe something to believe in?” Samuel asked.

That was when Castiel realized that more people had come in as the hours passed by. His lack of attention to the fact was another worrying factor. It meant he had been thinking about Dean the whole time, wondering if they would be able to manage the play as couple yet.

And now Samuel wanted them to sing the main song. Perfect, just perfect! Castiel licked his lips and put on a small smile, nodding slightly.

“It would be a pleasure, if Mister Winchester does not see a problem with it,” he answered formally, not daring to say Dean’s name.

Samuel looked at his brother and the expression on his face reminded Castiel of abandoned dogs who had been through horrible moments and were now searching for someone to love them. It was terrifying.

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

Castiel noticed that his vocabulary was very condensed, a few words to speak a whole paragraph, maybe. Then, Castiel realized he was overanalyzing and turned away, waiting for the song to start.

This time, though, they had a whole orchestra, ready to play whichever tune they were told to. Samuel made a few observations to the maestro, a man named Alastair, before settling back on his chair and talking excitedly with another actor for a few moments.

Meanwhile, Castiel stood at the center of the stage, ready to let the words slip as soon as he was commanded to. True it is that he was nervous, mainly because he did not know if things would happen as the day before, if Dean would avoid him at all costs, or even if they would not have anything at all and realize it was just a moment that had already been gone with the wind.

Samuel nodded after what seemed like ages for the blue-eyed singer, and Azazel conducted the orchestra to the starting notes, the sounds floating around the room, trying to find their way into the people’s soul.

Only by blinking his eyes, a transition that took him less than half a second, Castiel was free again, his true self invading his senses and mixing itself with Christine, their feelings being shared with one another as they became one and Castiel became their carrier.

His lips parted, the words slowly forming on them, walking down the path the maestro led them to. They made sense to him now as he remembered his dream. A soft calm settled itself inside Castiel, the color green involving his surroundings as the feeling of sand came to his feet.

A strong and yet smooth voice, even more beautiful than the one from the day before, replaced his own as Dean sang his part. Castiel instantaneously looked for him and the feeling of not founding him was somehow excruciating.

“And though you turn from me to glance behind, the phantom of the opera is there, inside your mind.”

The sound came from behind Castiel, only a few feet away. He related to the lyrics as Dean approached with firm and slow steps, whispering the final word against Castiel’s lips before swaying his cape – which went oh so perfectly with his mask – and moving away again, leaving the blue-eyed to his loneliness.

Castiel sang once more, trying to find himself inside the words, but finding himself unable of doing so when Dean held his waist with both hands and interrupted his sentence. They turned towards each other, their voices wrapping themselves together as their eyes locked, emerald meeting sapphire.

Not giving himself a moment longer to think about the matter, Castiel placed his left hand on Dean’s cheek, trying to show him with the contact what he could not show with words. The Winchester covered Castiel’s hand at once, closing his eyes as the word ‘phantom’ escaped both of their lips, and opening them once more to focus on Castiel as they said that two words that meant a lot more than just a song. _My_. _Your_.

Stepping back as the chorus came alive, Dean took Castiel’s hand and made him spin around the stage, their fingers never moving away from the other’s touch. Dean stopped only to so Castiel could spin to right and back into Dean’s arm, doing the same to the left side and stopping there, the dark-haired man’s eyes desperate with need.

“In all your fantasies, you always knew, that man and mystery…”

“Were both in you,” Castiel completed.

Dean held Castiel’s shoulders and ran his hands down his arms as their words melted as one yet once again. When the blonde’s fingers wrapped around Castiel’s wrist, they were strong, possessive, and Dean compelled him to turn to the public for all of them to know that Castiel was his, and no one else’s.

“Sing, my angel of music,” he commanded.

And just as the first time, Castiel obeyed to every and single one of his orders, although this time not to follow the lyrics, but to assure Dean’s owning him.

Owning. Castiel had an owner now. In a sick and twisted way, this was the thought that crossed his mind as he sang the final notes. What had happened to the moments of happiness he once thought about? Was being owned his version of being happy now?

If by Dean, then yes.

“Sing for me!”

The green-eyed man’s hands held him up, since Castiel could not do it himself. He only found the strength to sing the last note before falling into Dean’s arms, as if he had just lost control over his actions. For a second or two, Castiel passed out, but, thankfully, Dean was the only one who seemed to notice it, once the blue-eyed made sure to recompose himself and pretend for the others that he was only acting.

The look he and Dean shared, though, was enough to let them both aware of their secret regards towards one another. As the seconds lingered by, the claps slowly made themselves audible for the singers. Castiel blinked twice before thanking the audience with a simple and polite nod.

For as much as he wanted to stay and continue to share this moment with Dean, Castiel had to get out of there. The place was suddenly becoming tighter, smaller, as if it were trying to swallow him up. As fast as he could without making it visible to others, Castiel made his way down the stairs, faking with a cough his increasing inability to breathe.

Remembering he had to let someone know where he was – he was sure Samuel would send a rescue crew, if Castiel did not come back in a few minutes – the singer headed towards the director, who was still clapping and talking excitedly to a southern man.

“Samuel, I need some air, if you do not mind,” Castiel said with a small smile.

“Oh, sure, do you want someone to join you?”

It was easy to see Samuel was worried with his main star, but Castiel only shook his head.

“No, I am alright; it is just the air here that is too hot,” he tried to explain.

Samuel nodded. “Well, alright then, take ten.”

“Thank you, Samuel,” the singer finished before leaving the place.

Once he was out of the theater, Castiel headed towards a dark corner and leaned against a wall, his eyes covered with his hands. What was he doing? He had just almost thoroughly admitted having feelings for someone he did not even know.

Truth it was that Dean Winchester was quite a charm and he had some kind of spell that had Castiel on the palm of his hand in seconds. But Castiel was a reasonable person, he knew things did not work the way he wanted, and, most important, he knew how his infatuations always ended.

Or, at least, he remembered how the last one had ended.

Sighing, the blue-eyed man allowed his body to give in and sat on the dirty floor, not caring if his clothes would be filthy after. He just had to calm himself down; it was no time to have feelings towards his co-stars. For God’s sake, he had got the part of his life and this could be ruined if he gave into the forest green eyes of Dean Winchester.

Castiel was ready for this chance. He had prayed so much; had so much faith this would happen someday…And it did. The chance he had been waiting for was presenting himself right in front of his eyes. So good was the play that maybe even Queen Elizabeth would probably request a performance in her castle. He could not ruin this…Not over a man; not again.

Not knowing what else to do, Castiel laid his head on his arms, which rested on his legs. No doubts there were that he was completely doomed. How had this happen? He had promised himself that he would have better control over himself. And yet, it had just taken a song. A _song_. How was this possible, love at first song!

Love.

Did he love Dean? Well, Castiel had always been a sentimental person, but love was just…Too much. To be honest, he could not be sure if he did love his blonde co-star, mainly because he was positive he had never been in love before.

Of course, he had given himself thoroughly to other men, but never did he say he loved them, and neither did the opposite situation happen. For a long time he was sure he loved him, the one who almost destroyed his life; still, once it ended, he realized he had just been a fool who believed too many promises.

So love. No, he was not in love with Dean; not yet, at least. Castiel was very much happy with being alone, only having himself to even try a…Relationship with someone. And especially one with Dean. Not that he knew anything about the Winchester man, but he could see he was not a good choice. Perhaps good in bed, certainly, those firm and strong hands were probably able to do wonders. But that was it; Dean was not someone to have a relationship.

And then again, perhaps that was a good thing. If Castiel could manage to have only an affair with that man, then maybe he would be ready to go into the world and once again try to find love, this time with someone who would actually bear such feeling towards him.

Castiel was good in bed; he had been told that lots of times. His teenage years were ones he did not even want to remember, mainly because of his attitudes, but also because of his reputation. Men or women, he remembered not caring much, if they could give him the pleasure, the relieve he was looking for.

Again, a fool. At least once at all ages could Castiel say he had been a fool, or fooled by someone. Stupidity; all of it. Everything because of his weak heart. Fortunately, now he had found a way to harden it. Or he only thought he did.

A voice coming from inside the theater startled the singer, but he did not have time to stand up before Dean was in front of him, his brows furrowed in a frown.

“Cas? You okay?” the blonde asked.

God, that voice was all it took for Castiel to be open-mouthed. Clearing his throat, the blue-eyed singer nodded and started to stand up, jumping slightly once he felt Dean’s hand on his arm in an attempt to help him.

“Yes, I am alright, Mister Winchester, thank you,” he said in a low tone.

Dean did not remove his hand once Castiel was up and the dark-haired man looked towards it in hope he would get the message.

“Everyone’s worried in there; you’ve been gone for like twenty minutes or more.”

Oh my, had it already been that long? Castiel really had to start managing his thoughts.

“I am sorry, I was lost into my thoughts,” he explained.

“What kind of thoughts?” Dean pressed further.

Castiel then realized Dean was cornering him against the wall and there was nothing the blue-eyed could do, although he did not know if he did not _want_ to do something, or if he _could_ not do something.

“Personal thoughts,” Castiel said, his voice a little lower and shakier.

“Tell me.”

It was already possible for Castiel to feel Dean’s breath against his skin, so close was the other singer. Licking his lips in order not to look at the Winchester’s, Castiel leaned against the wall once more, trying not to panic when Dean trapped him, setting both of his hands besides Castiel’s head.

“You,” he confessed.

Dean smirked at him, his nose countering Castiel’s jawline.

“Yeah?” the green-eyed encouraged him.

“Yes,” was all Castiel was able to answer.

Even if Castiel’s body was definitely allowing Dean to do anything he wanted, the dark-haired man still had his doubts, so he cleared his throat. Unfortunately – or not – Dean seemed to be set on finishing this silent discussion that had been happening between them since the day before, when they saw each other for the first time.

“So what, you _do_ share my feelings now? Or do I still have to ‘keep my infatuations to myself’?” Dean mocked, raising an eyebrow at Castiel.

Well, the blue-eyed singer could feel very much more than just an ‘infatuation’, but if Dean was going to keep on making a fool out of him, then thank you very much, but he is very happy alone. Or he was, until two days ago.

“Listen, Mister Winchester, I admit I find you very attractive, but that is it. There are no such things as _feelings_ involved,” Castiel lied.

So obvious was it that Dean noticed Castiel wasn’t telling the truth, that the blonde man only hummed and leaned in just a little closer, their bodies only a breath away.

“Yeah, sure, we can start from that, you know, since you’re afraid of commitment,” he said with a shrug.

“I am not!” the blue-eyed readily assured, now insulted. “Only because I do not want a relationship with you, Mister Winchester, it does not mean that I do not want one at all.”

Perhaps Castiel should have kept his words to himself, since Dean instantaneously backed away, crossing his arms against his chest.

“You already have someone,” Dean assumed.

If only…If only Castiel had someone to take Dean out of his thoughts.

“No, I do not.”

“Then what? And don’t even try to tell me you’re not queer,” he made sure to add.

Castiel let out a quiet laugh, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“That is not the problem.”

Once again the dark-haired could feel Dean approaching him, his presence intoxicating Castiel’s mind.

“Then what is the problem? Because I’m opening myself here, man. I’m not that kind of guy, you can ask Sammy; but you…I don’t know, Cas. I just want to have a shot.”

How could Castiel say the problem was exactly his feeling the same way? It was completely obvious he wanted to have Dean, to touch him, to kiss him, to…But he could not. It was just too soon.

Sighing, Castiel allowed himself to look at Dean, who was right in front of him, waiting for Castiel’s azure eyes to find his emerald ones.

“I have been deceived not a long time ago, by a person I thought to love. He used me during one of the plays we both interpreted, and afterwards threw me away as if I were nothing. I haven’t trusted anyone since then, and I am not looking forward to have the same situation happening again,” Castiel finally explained.

Dean stood silence for a long time, what made the dark-haired singer a bit anxious. He wanted him to understand why he was doing this; why he could not be with him.

“So basically you’re afraid I’ll hurt you like he did?” he asked.

Nodding, Castiel looked away.

“I am not ready for another disappointment, Mister Winchester.”

And it was true. Two months were too little of a time to be over someone you thought to be in love for over a year. Castiel wanted to give in; he wanted it so badly that it nearly ached not to pull Dean down towards his own lips.

“Dean,” the green-eyed said. At Castiel’s confused look, he continued, “you call me Dean.”

The blue-eyed gave Dean a surprised look, thanking him silently for the gesture. Calling someone by their first name during the times they lived meant a lot more than just a word; it was like a key to a secret passage towards the other’s life.

“Thank you, Dean. I would tell you to call me Castiel, but you seem very fond of calling me ‘Cas’.”

Dean shrugged and put some distance between them, scratching at the back of his neck.

“It’s just easier, you know? I can stop, if you don’t like it.”

His worried tone brought a warm smile to Castiel’s lips.

“I like the sound of it in your voice,” he confessed.

The green-eyed singer grinned at him, biting at his bottom lip just after. Castiel could see he was hesitating on saying something, but he gave him the time needed to reunite the courage to let the words out.

“We could start with the basics,” Dean suggested, a slight red color covering his cheeks.

“For example?” Castiel asked, completely amazed by that side of the blonde man.

With all of his imposing posture and confident appearance, Castiel never took him as a gentle or shy person. It was thoroughly endearing to see such behavior taking over his actions.

“Well, I could say as friends, but I don’t think I’d keep my hands to myself if we were to be that close, so…I don’t know, I could do small things and if you think it’s too much, you say so and I’ll stop right away; how does that sound?”

That was certainly not a possibility Castiel had thought about, but also a very plausible one. Dean really sounded as if he wanted this. Perhaps…Perhaps he was not after Castiel because he found him attractive or such. Perhaps Castiel was not the only one who felt that connection between them during their singing.

Could this be true? Could Castiel have finally found someone who actually cared about him enough to _fight_ for him? It was too much to ask…But then again, Dean was there, and he was asking for a chance. Castiel might as well give him one, right?

“I think…I think we could try that,” he agreed.

“Awesome!” Dean answered right away, smiling from ear to ear. “So I can…?”

Castiel nodded his head slightly, still a little afraid of what Dean would do and if he would be able to stand whatever it was.

“Close your eyes,” the blonde said, his voice again that mysterious sound that sent shivers down Castiel’s spine.

He obeyed the command, breathing a little harsher. “It’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Dean assure him. “We’re safe here, no one will see us.”

His words slowly calmed Castiel down and once he was able to breathe normally, he heard Dean moving, approaching him once more. The next sensation was of Dean’s warm hand cupping his cheek, his thumb caressing Castiel’s skin. As incredible as it sounded, Castiel felt _comfortable_ with that small touch.

Dean’s fingers moved tenderly, tracing the counter of Castiel’s jawline and up to his eyebrows. The dark-haired man leaned into every single movement, relishing into the feeling of belonging to someone, of being completely able to let himself go.

Against his will, his eyes opened once Dean’s hand reached his lips. The man’s thumb moved along the dry lines, a touch barely even there. Castiel had to admit that he wanted more, but he was not sure if he could have it yet.

Still, they were both grown men, and if Castiel could not even kiss someone because of a stupid being who tried to ruin his life, then he did not know what he would become. He was strong, he _could_ do that.

Without giving himself a second moment to think, Castiel searched for Dean’s eyes, finding them easily.

“Kiss me,” he whispered.

Dean seemed to hesitate; after all, they had just had a conversation over how Castiel could have difficulties with accepting contact again. But he felt powerful under Dean’s presence; safe. And he wanted to feel more of that.

Once he realized Castiel had actually meant it, the green-eyed leaned in, his hand stopping to cup Castiel’s neck. They both took a moment to adjust to the idea, their breaths mixing with each other’s, before Castiel could not take it anymore and leaned in, sealing their lips.

If the blue-eyed singer was not in love with the Winchester man before, he certainly was now. Dean felt simply perfect against him, their bodies so close that Castiel almost could not tell which one was his.

He led his hands to Dean’s hair, digging his fingers into the sand-colored locks, slowly at first, and increasing the strength and speed as their lips did the same. They wanted this; they _both_ wanted this. Castiel knew it was not only him this time.

As if this was all he needed to know, which probably was, he licked at Dean’s bottom lip, asking for entrance. The man willingly allowed him to invade his mouth and oh my dear Gosh. Castiel’s breath increased even more once he felt the wonderful taste of Dean’s. Whiskey, tobacco, and something like cinnamon; everything coming together to form the most marvelous of sensations.

Not able to stop himself, Castiel let out a low moan, encouraging Dean to keep on trying. He bit slightly at the blue-eyed’s lip, quickly moving inside again to swirl their tongues together and massage the roof of Castiel’s mouth.

That was when the dark-haired realized it: Dean’s hands were simply everywhere. For a second Castiel felt them on his cheeks, and then they were already caressing his sides and making their way underneath his shirt, brushing against his chest.

Drawing the line at keeping clothed at least while they were in public, Castiel broke the kiss and leaned their foreheads together.

“For as much as I enjoy having you touching me, I would very much appreciate if we could put this aside for when we are alone,” he said hurriedly, completely breathless.

Dean let out a quiet laugh, allowing his delicious smell – something close to apple pie, leather and simply _home_ – to invade Castiel.

“Yeah, sorry for that; got a little caught by the moment.”

Joining his laugh, Castiel raised his hand to brush the fingertips along Dean’s cheekbone.

“Do you really mean it?”

The other man leaned into the touch, smiling fondly. “What?”

Castiel hesitated. He hated feeling so insecure, especially when Dean was actually trying to prove he thought the dark-haired was worth something.

“That you have feelings towards me,” he explained, his voice a little low.

Turning his face to kiss the palm of Castiel’s hand and taking it in his own, Dean opened his eyes.

“Every single time I said it.”

He then kissed Castiel again, this time a tender movement, only a brush of lips.

“And I’ll mean it every time I say it again.”

The blue-eyed singer enlaced their fingers, pressing their hands together.

“I think I might get used to that.”

“Well, you better, because it’s true. I like you, Cas; a lot.”

Kissing him one last time, Castiel smiled.

“I like you too, Dean,” he confessed.

Dean joined him, moving away just enough so they could look at each other.

“Not that I want to ruin this, but I think we should get back inside before Sammy sends a rescue patrol after us.”

With everything happening so fast, Castiel had actually forgotten about the play. He cleared his throat, straightening himself.

“Yes, that would be for the best,” the dark-haired agreed.

Dean started heading towards the entrance, but Castiel stopped him, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Well, I just thought you would not appreciate going back as if you had just been abused.”

A risqué chuckle left the man’s lips. “I don’t think I’d care that much.”

Rolling his eyes, Castiel approached him, straightening his hair and shirt before undoing and redoing his tie. He smiled at the final result.

“There, much better.”

“At least I won’t have to do the same,” Dean teased.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged, pulling Castiel with him as he walked. This time, the Novak man went willingly and thanked Dean once he opened the door for him, letting his hand go.

“You already look like you’ve just had sex, so there’s nothing I gotta do to fix you up.”

That was rude, if not entirely true. Not able to deny the veracity of it, Castiel licked his lips.

“It is not my fault.”

“And I’m not complaining at all.”


End file.
